The Girl Next Door
by Oni Giri Slash
Summary: Nami, a fiery young woman with a short fuse, does what comes natural when the neighbour next door laughs at her gardening skills...she has a lawn mower...Zoro & Nami AU. !R&R! CHAPTER 2 UP!
1. Lawn mower

**Giri: This is a humourous AU story about Zoro and Nami, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

**The girl next door**

If there were three things that made her life hectic, stressful and almost unbearable, then mowing the lawn was definitely one of them, followed closely by work and study. She had been in her new and first house for only a lonesome week and already the front garden was wrecking havoc by somehow managing to creep up the concrete path and clamber through the kitchen window.

Outside, an orange haired woman was screaming.

Nami couldn't give a damn if they were weeds or flowers, either way everything was going to be uprooted and given a number one shave. She wanted to see dirt. Her short fuse had been extinguished five long minutes ago and her temper was escaping by any means possible.

Nami looked at her ride-on-mower in utter vile. She hated this thing. Hated it beyond words. She grabbed the key once more and jammed it mercilessly into the ignition. For a moment the engine whirred weakly to life, it wanted to go it really did but…Nami kicked its front wheel angrily and let out another howl of swear words that had the closest neighbours peering out from behind the curtains to see what in the world was screaming at six o'clock in the morning.

* * *

Zoro rubbed the sleepy grit that had accumulated in the corners of his eyes and sat up with a grin. He rubbed his large palms through his sleep roughed hair and rolled off his futon. He stumbled to his bedroom window and peered through the blinds into the morning light. His grin broadened when he saw the new neighbour outside, swearing like a trooper at her ride-on-lawn mower. Her face was red and it was amazing to hear that her voice hadn't yet gone hoarse. 

Zoro left the window and headed down the hall. He was going to laugh at the poor kid and add more fuel to the spitfire that was raging outside.

He pulled the door across and stepped onto his lawn, the morning air was slightly chilly; he thought momentarily to go back in for a shirt but instead walked across the brittle grass and up to the small four foot wooden fence that separated his yard from his neighbour's.

The kid hadn't noticed his presence and he was able to amuse himself for another few minutes. After a while he thought the machine had earned itself enough abuse and he laughed at his new neighbour.

Nami looked up, the danger in her eyes going from the machine to the shirtless man making a scene by the fence. He was laughing a haughty laugh, wide mouthed and broad toothed. She couldn't find any humour in which to laugh along with him, her eyes turned icy and she patiently waited for him to stop.

Zoro felt the air freeze around him and slowly the sight he was seeing didn't seem as funny as it did when he first saw it. "Ahhhh," he sighed, catching his breath and rubbing his stomach. "Honestly, kid, girls don't mow the lawn for a reason."

"Kid?" she snapped back murderously. "Girls? What the hell is the reason?"

"Well," Zoro replied coolly, running his fingers along the fence, "they can't operate a mower for one. You live on a really tiny block, hardly any grass and it's a bloody ride-on-mower. And with all the energy you seem to have, you may as well get a pair of scissors and do your lawn like that," he yawned. "I'm going back to sleep, keep it down won't you or else I'll tell your parents." Feeling really good about himself, Zoro turned and headed back towards his house.

It was then he heard the mower roar to life.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU CONIFER MAN!" Nami howled.

Zoro turned back towards the orange haired kid in time to see her, atop of the now functioning lawn-mower, mow down the fence and come racing towards him. It all happened arthritically slow. He felt himself slide beneath the machine, its bladed whirring fast; he was looking up at its crazy driver, her auburn eyes burning demon-like into his until he went fully under and the oil spilt into his eyes.

Everything went black.

* * *

Nami stood outside the white door biting at her nails in both anxiety and frustration as the doctors on the other side busied themselves around the body of the man she had, two hours ago, mowed down. Vivi wasn't making the matter any better. 

"Does it look like he's still breathing?" She asked her temperamental friend quietly.

"Vivi," Nami snapped quietly back, "you'd now when his heart monitor goes flat."

Vivi swivelled her eyes to the heart monitor where it beeped away, making peaks, as she liked to call them. "I still can't believe it…"

Nami grinded her teeth and ripped off the top of another finger nail. It was a bad habit.

"You actually mowed the poor man down," she pulled back her blue hair in awe and fright.

"Poor?" her friend growled softly, "that bastard had it coming. Calling me a kid. Telling my parents…bastard. Hope he dies."

"Hope his hot body doesn't scar," Vivi murmured absently.

Nami frowned and ignored her friend's comment, concentrating on emitting all the death vibes she could into the room where the surgery was being performed. She watched the blue and white people with no distinguishable features bend over the body, stand up, move to another position and bend back down. Their once white gloves where tipped with red and they seemed keen on flashing them around to everyone – her in particular. It felt like that, they weren't really doing it on purpose. She sighed, perhaps, as Vivi already mentioned, she had let her anger go too far. Now she was actually trying to kill people.

It was a pity that her anger management classes _pissed her off_.

At long last the surgeons cleaned up and wheeled the patient into a room, a concerned Nami who was hiding the fact and a curious Vivi following behind. The two stopped outside the room.

"Umm, Vivi," Nami said innocently, "do you think I'm normal?"

Vivi tried to get away but the hands that grabbed her wrists was iron strong and she ended up answering, "I think you are."

The orange haired woman sighed. "Vivi…" she groaned. "If I go into that room do you think I'll get mad again?"

The blue woman made a face. "I hate these questions."

"Vivi..." Nami growled evilly.

"No!" squeaked her friend, afraid that a single spark will ignite the bomb. "No, you'll be fine – like you always are!"

That was exactly what she wanted to hear; Nami gave Vivi a grin and opened the door.

* * *

Zoro groaned softly to himself. What had happened this morning that put him into this state? He couldn't recall one thing he had done that deserved the punishment of hospital food. He forked idly through the gelatine gravy watching as the prongs made wavy patterns. He wasn't used to a fork; normally chopsticks fitted his hands nicely, shrugging, he forked down his gravy like a wolf. It wasn't ramen, but it would do. He had grabbed the bowl of custard when the door opened. 

He felt his mouth fall open and the custard fall into the gap between his legs with a sensational squelch. It took a moment to replace his surprised face with one of his most horrible. He gave a lopsided grin, "Guess your murder attempt wasn't as clean as you'd hoped."

"No," said the ki…no, the demoness. "No it wasn't," she slammed the door into the face of the woman coming in after her and sat on the chair beside his bed. "In fact, I'm amazed you look so well after the operation."

Zoro shrugged it off coldly. "Pah, it was nothing."

"Really?" The orange demoness replied with a slight grin. "Well, I won't hesitate when another chance arises then."

For some reason, Zoro wished he hadn't said that. Something about this person made him believe that she would, if given another chance. "So," he continued, "you mow down all your neighbours do you?"

"You're the first," she responded with a flick of a wrist to pull back her straying orange fringe. "But I enjoyed it so much I'm going to do it again!" She gave a small, evil chuckle.

Zoro blinked in response.

Nami cut off her chuckle when she saw that the man she was talking to had no sense of humour whatsoever. He just stared at her like a startled rabbit…and she was the fox. That was fine with her, she didn't care; she was here to make sure he wasn't going to blame her. "Anyway, you're okay now, aren't you?" she asked as nicely as she could.

"Yeah," he snapped, "what gives you the idea that I'm not?"

Nami felt a flicker of something stir inside her. "I don't know," she cocked her head to one side, "maybe the fact that a ride-on-lawn mower on level one completely eclipsed you not more than four hours ago."

Zoro felt his blood boil, sarcasm in a situation like this? The woman should be bloody apologising for running him down like any other normal citizen would. Thing was, the moment he went into the surgery he had the feeling of lingering doom looking over him and now he was looking at the eyes of doom. This orange haired freaky woman…there wasn't something right about her. The hair colour, the voice that never grew hoarse…seriously, he was going to lodge a complaint to the police. He voiced this motive and was instantly pounced upon.

Nami practically felt the fine thread between her sanity and her insanity snap in a loud ringing echo that made her head spin and reality reel back and forth. The moment he issued his threat, the bastard, was the same moment she grabbed the man, be he muscular or weedy, by the collar of his hospital gown and hauled him to her face. She didn't need to rehearse her words, "You wouldn't," she snapped, breathing fire into his face.

"I would," the man was obviously keeping his ground, warding off her dark aura.

"And," continued Nami, "how would I stop you?"

"You can't."

"Scared, eh?" she hissed. "Want someone like me locked up?"

Zoro grinned, he liked this person. She was obviously an interesting person to suggest being 'locked up'. It might've been her first time running someone over with the mower, but it definitely wasn't her first time running someone over. "I won't, unless you do one thing…"

"Go on?"

"You have to take me out to lunch," he growled, feeling like he had handled the predicament like a man.

Nami felt a little sanity come back into her. "Lunch? Is that all? Where?"

"Riyoko's Sushi Bar," he replied coolly. "The one in the city. You know it?" he felt her let him go as she settled herself back a bit.

Nami nodded. "Yeah, sure. Just that?"

Zoro nodded back.

The two listened to the silence that lingered for a while before one realised, "I forgot, I'm Nami," she held out her hand for him to shake. "I moved in next door to you last Wednesday." Nami smiled encouragingly.

"Roronoa Zoro," he replied, taking the offered hand, shook it up and down a few times before letting go - it was cold. "Nami…hmm…its Japanese is it?"

Nami shrugged. "I don't know…could be. Why?"

"It's a…okay name," Zoro commented.

Nami thought she had better comment on his name too. "Zoro's Spanish right?"

"No. That's got two 'r's, I've only got one."

"French then?" She asked politely.

"Yuk, no! I hate French!"

"You sure?" continued Nami looking at the ceiling. "Roronoa sounds an awful like that man…"

Zoro could feel himself biting his tongue in dread.

Nami remained ignorant. "That French pirate, François l'Olonnais…except your first name has 'r's instead of the…" her voice trailed off as her eyes went to the place between Zoro's legs. "Your custard's melted."

Zoro looked down at the unpleasant looking yellow stain trickling through the sheets.

* * *

**Giri: This is just a oneshot! Thanks for reading!!**


	2. Japanese

**Giri: Okay, I think it was obvious that the previous chapter wasn't the end of the story. I was unsure at the time whether to make it longer. Well, I decided to do a bit more...and a bit more...so now I've got this story I'm kind of addicted to! - Haha.**

**I understand that Vivi's comment was a little OOC. Sorry. In this story Vivi is Nami's only and bestest friend, who cares (and worries) a lot for her - like she does. She makes up for what Nami lacks - a caring and compassionate heart.**

**Also, this story swaps between Zoro and Nami's thoughts and views on each other. Each thought will contradict the others...for example, what one might suggest, the other might see it as a threat. **

**...Also...Nami comes from Japan - but will never admit it.  
**

* * *

**Japanese **

It was another hot afternoon. An afternoon where people end up stripping off in front of the sprinklers because sanity had dried up and blown away in what little wind there was. Or one of those afternoons where everyone is inside with their air conditioners and the power 'suddenly' goes out, and those people who are in the supermarkets are laughing because they're still cool.

Zoro sat on his front lawn in the shade of one of his trees blooming magnificent red flowers in the afternoon heat. He picked idly at the emerald green grass, randomly grinning at the bloodstains and when the fancy took him, looked across his yard to the next door neighbour's. It never failed to amuse him, the way someone could chew down a four foot fence, mow an innocent guy over and still manage to do the garden as if nothing had happened. And he loved how the orange haired kid stepped outside and stopped, as though she had walked into a wall of fire – already a sweat had broken out on her forehead.

Nami could not believe how stinking hot it was. She wanted to turn around and walk back into the safety of her air conditioned house, but the conifer man was there. Sitting on his lawn and looking completely senile out there in the quivering heat. Waiting, no doubt. Waiting because he had nothing else in his life to do, obviously. Who in the modern world had the time to sit and pick at the grass under the shade of some tree and grin at the mess on his own front lawn? 

Nami couldn't name anyone; sighing in frustration, she walked across her lawn and entered her neighbour's via the new opening she had created yesterday.

* * *

No greeting. No gesture of notice. Nothing. The demoness just stalked over to him and blocked his sunlight – it was a hot day, now it was god damn freezing. How in the world can someone emit that kind of aura!

Zoro looked up. "Hey."

Nami looked down and shifted her weight between her legs impatiently.

"Uh…you're in my sun," Zoro stated flatly.

Jerk, Nami thought stiffly, fighting the overwhelming urge to kick him while he was at ankle hight. "So," she said coldly, "is that all you can find in your closet?"

The green man made a confused face. "Closet? What do-?"

Nami turned on her heads letting off a mouth full of steam as she did. "Honestly, you're more gullible than I thought." She went back across her own yard and disappeared around the side of her house.

Zoro's colourless eyes watched her go. "My closet?" he grumbled to himself as he stood up and dusted the grass tips off his dark trousers. He crossed his lawn and followed the demoness. "_Her_ closet! I didn't think it was legal to go around practically nake-!" Zoro leaped of the mad woman's drive way as the mini red sports car zoomed out of the garage and screeched to a stop. 

Nami chuckled to herself as Zoro leapt of his feet and landed in a startled heap in the dirt. It was priceless. Utterly priceless! She watched the outraged man stand back up, dusting the back of his trousers, and most likely muttering something because his lips were taught and faintly moving. A deep ravine had cracked along his normally impassive face. He was frowning.

Zoro threw open the door and glared into the car, "You're bloody mad, you know that, woman?" He sat himself in and roughly grabbed his belt; he looked back across to the crazy driver. "What?"

"Mistreat my car, moron," Nami snapped, "and you're paying for the damages." She grabbed her own seatbelt in more or less the same fashion as Zoro did, before gripping the steering wheel and continuing her sixty kilometre speed down the driveway and out onto the street.

Zoro felt himself clutching onto the dashboard so that it and his head wouldn't collide. The car came to a sickening stop and he was jerked forward, the safety catch on his seat belt stopping him from flying out the windscreen but giving him a nasty rope-like burn. He turned to Nami grinning maniacally next to him. "We're at the stop lights already?"

She looked at him – was that road rage in her eyes? "Unfortunately."

Between the two came a tension as they waited for the lights to change from red to green, Zoro thought this as the best opportunity to roll down the window and stick out an arm and head.

Nami, on the other side, had done the same. Because from here to the city there were no more lights and no more annoying pedestrians; just a twenty minute stretch of concrete that she could do in ten.

* * *

Nami tightly swerved behind the semi-trailer and slid neatly into an empty parking space, she engaged the parking brakes with a satisfied grin and unbuckled her seat belt. She flipped down the sun flaps to adjust her wind swept hair and placed across her eyes a pair of dark sunglasses. Gleaming with expense. 

"You alive?" She asked the man beside her, his head still outside the window.

Zoro felt a rough nudge on his shoulder; the force practically had him falling out the window, he spun around. "Yeah," he unbuckled his seat belt, "a little speed doesn't kill anyone."

Nami raised her eyebrows at him and stepped out of the car. Zoro ran a hand through his hair a couple of times and stepped out, coming around the side of the car to stand beside the one who was going to pay for the lunch. The two looked at the cultural Japanese restaurant, outside its front were various small statues of animals and carvings and such. 

A foul taste was rolling unpleasantly around on Nami's tongue. "Going in?" she hissed at the green man.

Zoro looked at her, hating the fact her face was hidden by the dark shades – how in the world was he to know what devilish thing she was thinking up next if he couldn't see half her face? "Sure. Got a problem with that?"

"No problem at all, green Japanese man," the woman snapped back. She opened the glass front door and ducked under the thick velvet red curtains.

* * *

Nami stepped in to the smell of steaming rice and raw fish that was alive not two minutes ago – heartless Japanese. She almost punched out the door man who smiled and bowed with a semi-enthusiastic "irashaimasen". Instead her fist collided into Zoro's shoulder.

Zoro ignored the physical assault the bloody woman had launched from the cover of the red curtains. He was a man; nothing anyone did could hurt him – though she must've hit a nerve because his right arm had gone limp. He then received a rather frightened "Irashaimasen!"

Nami followed a waiter to a…a table. She looked down at the tiny table located at ankle height and then at disgust to the little cushions. She looked at the serving man, "I sit here do I?"

"Hai, hai, hai," the waiter replied bobbing his head up and down, grinning a cheesy smile.

Crap, Nami thought taking up a futon and sitting down on it, this is going to give me deep vein thrombosis. She crossed her legs and removed her sunglasses. Across from her, Zoro was taking his seat looking comfortably at home. He looked at her with a smile.

Damn, Nami continued her process of thought, now he's trying to be nice. She watched with detachment as the waiter laid a menu onto the table and fled from her glare. She picked up the menu. It was written in Japanese…and she could read it – but she didn't want to. She took a fleeting glance at the man across the tiny table hurriedly reading the many kanji. She groaned in frustration and then looked at the price, it was in yen. Nami did a quick conversion.

Zoro looked over the menu in time to see the orange head slam her face into the table. Nice reaction, exactly what he wanted; he folded the menu and placed it calmly back onto the table. "Chosen what you'd like?"

She rolled her face towards him and bared her teeth.

Thousands of pinpricks ruptured from his skin as he turned to look at something other than the eyes of doom. He looked around the restaurant, surely she didn't murder in public. The waiter appeared and asked for his order.

"I'll have everything in this column," Zoro replied casually, his eyes wide and his mouth pooling all the extra saliva. "And she'll have everything on this side."

The man left. 

Nami banged her forehead onto the table a few more times. Japanese! Zoro was speaking fluent Japanese, the wing-whang. She growled, "What did you order?"

Zoro scratched idly at his front teeth. "Relax. Not much."

"_What…_" she repeated tersely, "did you get, conifer man?"

"If you can't be bothered to listen," Zoro drawled back unemotionally, "then that's your problem."

Nami bit back her rage and chewed heatedly on her tongue. "Forget it," she muttered, looking over at the happy couple sitting in their futons a few feet away. Boy, didn't they look stressed. She felt sorry for the poor woman; she was dating a rotten jerk. 

The woman across from her thought likewise. "Look at that poor man," she said to her partner quietly, "with that horrid orange woman."

Zoro heard this and grinned down at his clasped hands resting on the table and watched as the food started appearing. He felt his mouth watering as various dishes of tempura were promptly placed in front of him, and then sushi, sashimi, onigiri, yakinori. "Domo," he said cheerily to the waiter. He clapped his hands together and touched the tips of his fingers gently to his forehead. "Itadakimasu."

Nami sighed and was about to do the same when the whole table erupted into a frenzy of hands, Zoro grabbed his own chopsticks in one hand and snatched up hers in another. The air filled with hungry grunts as the green man stuffed whole sushi down his throat. Nami looked on, taken entirely by surprise. She glanced around the restaurant – apparently everyone else was doing the same, except their eyes landed on her table, and then to the pig making all the noise, and then to her, and back again, obviously trying to figure out some sort of relationship between the two.

She was too mature to be embarrassed, no, she was completely appalled. 'Zting!' There went her sanity. Snapped like an E-string on a violin – just not as strong. In complete rage she picked up a bowl and tossed it at Zoro's head.

Zoro deftly caught it. "What was that for?" he demanded harshly.

"Stop eating little a bloody pig!" Nami growled lowly.

"No, I'm not. So shut-up," he kicked out at her from underneath the table, right in the thigh where it would hopefully hurt. He sucked up his ramen whilst he watched her expression change from rage to insanity.

Nami could not believe what the jerk had just done! Kicked her! In a fit of fury she launched a counter attack and she knew where to aim.

Zoro felt his eyes water; he slouched forward a bit giving the woman across from him his most murderous glare. "You're…" he hissed, "not supposed to have…shoes on."

Nami grinned evilly. "Do you think I give a damn?"

Zoro straightened himself, trying to look like his was recovering even though certain parts of him were sting ringing from the assault. "We're sitting on tatami mats, Nami, you uncultured woman!" 

"Tatami my arse," she snapped back, her fists were clutched tightly on the edge of the table and her knuckles were becoming white. An angry fire burned in her eyes.

Zoro resented it but considered slowing his eating down; after all, he couldn't get the money mad because she may not pay for the meal he had almost devoured – her portion too. He decided to leave the kicking competition to when they were some place private. 

Nami watched the man sober down and take on a normal consumption speed. Now that she had nothing to argue about, she turned to the last plate of sushi. She hated to admit it, but it was probably one of the best tasting sushi she had ever had. She picked up a small ceramic cup and gave it a smell, "Sake?" she asked normally to Zoro.

He looked up from slurping down some sort of clear soup and nodded, "yeah." He picked up his own small cup and tasted it. "Hm, good stuff," he leaned backwards and swallowed its contents, then went back to slurping his soup.

Nami took a sip…and another, and another. She found herself reaching for the pitcher and pouring out another cup. "It's amazing," she started, placing the pitcher back onto the table. 

Zoro poured himself out another cup, too. "What is?"

"That the hospital let you out on the very next day after a serious operation," she swirled her cup around. "It wasn't the average scratch, if you know what I mean."

"I know," Zoro replied, "I was there…" he took a sip, "under the machine." He watched as Nami smiled slightly into her drink. Was that supposed to be humorous?

"I probably should say that I'm sorry…"

"For mowing me down? Sure."

"For kicking you in the…what?" Nami blinked her big auburn eyes at him.

"Incredible," Zoro said, shaking his head. "You have no remorse whatsoever for what happened yesterday?"

Nami frowned slightly. "No. Why should I?" She finished her drink before continuing. "Here you are, perfectly healthy, eating, drinking…talking. You're not _dead_. You seem to not be physically or mentally retarded. And whatever painkillers you were prescribed with yesterday are evidently effective," she smiled, "and here I am paying for your lunch. So then in every aspect we're even. I have no reason to feel bad for you, or regret what I did."

Zoro felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "I respect that," he said, draining his cup with a wide swig. "Ahh!" He sighed loudly. "Yosh, I'm finished eating!" He stood up and stretched, "I'll let you handle the bill." He fled to the car.

She had dreaded this moment. The waiter came and laid down the bill.

* * *

Zoro leaned against the red sports car, soaking in the skin burning sun when the orange haired woman stepped stiffly out of the restaurant. Her shades were back on and an ugly twisted snarl made up the lower half of her face. She stalked up to him, slammed him against the car and spat into his face, "We're going to go some place private and out of law enforcer's eyes," she said, her voice shaking darkly, "where I'll rip another hole in you."

She spun on her heels, went around the car, opened the passenger's door and waited for Zoro to enter. He did so, trying to dodge her bloodthirsty aura without prevail. 

Nami slammed the door loudly closed, the window rattled in pain and the handle whined for mercy. The demoness stormed back around and got into the drivers seat. "You'd better hope we don't crash," she snarled, throwing the car into reverse.

Zoro pressed himself firmly into the car seat with a grimace. 

* * *

**Giri: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! REMEMBER! If at any stage you feel Nami/Zoro/Vivi etc. are OOC please tell me!**

**Ja!**


	3. Roses

**Roses**

"Vivi!" Nami snapped, ripping up a luscious rose bush and throwing it into the pile of weeds. "Keep your eyes in this yard!"

Vivi frowned and looked at her wild friend. "Nami," she sighed, "why are we planting oranges so early in the morning?"

"Because," Nami said, pulling out another rose bush, "I have two days study to catch up on and a job to get back to before I'm fired." She ripped out another bush and stopped to smell a blood red rose. She tossed it into the weed pile. "Ugh, I hate roses!"

"Why?" Vivi asked, looking sadly at the magnificent pile of them. "They're quite lovely and romantic."

"They have all these thorns! Ugh! Look at them, all over the place!" To prove how much she loathed them, she pulled up another bush.

"But they have such a beautiful smell and colour," her friend insisted.

"Yeah," Nami agreed, sitting on her haunches, "but there're heaps of flowers that smell nice and are colourful and don't have thorns. I'll grow those ones instead." She gave a rare sweet smile and gripped the base of another bush.

* * *

Zoro was about to leave for work when a blue hair woman emerged from out of Nami's house, smiling slightly, dirty but clearly pleased with herself. She stopped when their eyes met and immediately made a bee-line for him. Zoro sighed and met with the woman at the gap in the fence.

"Hello!" she said cheerfully extending a hand in greeting, "I'm Vivi."

Zoro clasped Vivi's fair hand. "Zoro."

Vivi's face faltered a moment in slight confusion. "Not Zorome?"

He shook his head and released the hand, "no, it's just Zoro," he paused. "Are you a relative to that Nami?"

Vivi laughed. "No no no no! I'm her friend!" she explained happily, flicking back her blue hair, "I was just helping Nami plant some orange trees in her backyard. She loves oranges."

"I suppose she would," Zoro replied with a smirk, he crossed his arms. "You get along with her?"

Vivi bit her lip as she thought about it. "Yeah," she answered slowly, "most of the time. We have our argument…actually, she has her tantrums every now and then."

So everybody _can_ have a friend, Zoro thought to himself.

"Oh," she added politely, "I'm so sorry about what Nami did to you the other day! She normally wouldn't hurt people without a logical reason, but…oh, I'm just so sorry!" She sincerely looked apologetic. "When Nami told me about how she dragged you out from under the machine and called the ambulance I was so shocked. Like, honestly, a lawn mower?! Huuuh," she looked at the sky. "I wished she wouldn't get mad so easily, it gets tough when you try and calm her down."

Zoro nodded. "Yeah, I've kinda experienced it already. But, is she _always_ like that?"

Vivi nodded back. "Most times," she admitted. "But…oh, Zorome, don't get me wrong, she's the most loyal, hard-working, honest person you could ever find in the world. She'll never let you down, even if she had to loose a limb…but she's got a bad side, I suppose. Trying to work for a house, car, food and studying doesn't help her at all," she frowned slightly at Zoro. "Puts too much stress on her, I think."

Zoro made a face. "How come she can't stay with you?"

"She hates my boyfriend," Vivi stated flatly. "Tried and failed. That's why we bought this nice home," she looked back at the average looking house with the dirt front yard.

"Ah," he said dully, "so you're the culprit. This neighbourhood was once a peaceful place."

"You've got a nice house," Vivi said, adding to the house conversation, "nice and big. I love your front lawn."

Zoro turned around to look at his own pad; he cocked his head to one side. He had to admit his lawn did look quite nice, the trees and bushes left free to roam had all done a good job in keeping themselves alive. "Yeah, it's all right."

Nami stooped over the sink in frustration as she dug the pair of tweezers into the centre of her palm and proceeded to painfully remove a thorn. This was exactly the reason why she hated roses; somehow they managed to get under her skin. With a sigh she ran her hand under the cold water and looked out the window. Vivi and Zoro were obviously getting along well with each other and were discussing something mildly serious, not Vivi in particular, she always had a beautiful smile on her face no matter the circumstances – it was the conifer man that was frowning. He was nodding slightly, occasionally shaking his head and putting in the odd sentence here and there. Nami dried her hands on a towel and went outside.

"Yeah," Zoro agreed to Vivi's comment about the weather. He felt the sinister presence of the orange woman approach and raised his sight towards her. Vivi noticed this and spun around.

"Hi Nami!"

"Hi," Nami smiled back – except the gesture didn't quite reach her eyes which were locked onto Zoro. "Having a nice chat?"

Zoro smiled and looked at Vivi, "We are, aren't we Vivi?"

She smiled back. "Yes we are!"

Nami snorted through her nose and hooked her hand around her friend's wrist. "Come on, we gotta go."

Vivi allowed herself to be steered to the garage, she waved back to Zoro. "See you later, Zorome!"

"Honestly," Nami hissed, "I thought you had better taste."

"Oh come off it," Vivi replied, "he's quite a nice guy when you get to know him." She stepped into the car.

"You come off it," the orange haired woman got behind the wheel, adjusted her sunglasses and turned to Vivi. "You're always wrong when it comes to men."

"Kohza is a good guy, Nami!"

"Yeah," she reversed down the drive, "when he gets his own bloody way."

Vivi rolled her eyes and leaned out the window.

* * *

Zoro demounted his battered shinai from the wall and turned to his class of kneeling kendo students, each with their own bamboo weapon lying beside them. Each student had a fire in their eyes as their sensei expertly twirled his shinai through the air. It wasn't admiration, far from it; it was because Zoro had promised the person who broke his practice sword an extra special treat. What the treat was Zoro hadn't decided on it yet…he didn't really need to, no sword of his broke. But his students were eager. They would pull any dirty trick on him for that treat.

Zoro sighed, "You've a second to put it down, Jackson."

The boy, who had approached his sensei from behind, his shinai ready for attack, stopped in surprise. "Wha…?"

The children watched as their green sensei smashed the bamboo against the almost innocent Jackson's head. There was a loud smack, and it wasn't the bamboo. They all winced.

"Attacking from behind is bad form," Zoro snapped, resting his sword on his shoulder as he glared at his student.

Jackson lay on the floor, partially conscious.

"Aw, that was mean sensei," a small girl scolded, her face pouting slightly but her eyes hopefully glued to the shinai. "I mean…" she paused. "Did your shinai break?"

Zoro rolled his eyes, "No." He watched the students sigh in relief.

"Ah," a slurred voice came from behind him, "Mr. Roronoa, you've got an unconscious student lying on the floor." Dracule Mihawk promptly stepped over the student, who was slowly coming around, and glided over to his employee, who was forever stiffening. His yellow eyes twisted around to stare at the students looking up at him in awe; he gave a slight toothy smile and addressed the green man. "Mr. Roronoa-"

"It's Zoro-sensei, whilst I'm giving lessons," Zoro replied with tense curtesy.

Dracule nodded. "Zoro-sensei…you realise that your fierce training methods on seven year old children is not appropriate?"

Zoro looked at his pupils. "They're fine."

The master of the dojo rubbed his forehead. "This isn't a military base."

"They're the ones paying," the sensei said snappishly, "they should be grateful to…"

"Yes, well, regardless of your opinions, Roronoa," said Dracule coolly, "but I don't want to hear another complaint about sprained tendons from parents, clear?" The dark cloaked man turned on his heels and glided out of the classroom, sliding close the rice doors behind him.

Zoro scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, who had the sprained tendon?" he asked the still in awe group.

The children looked hesitant before one spoke up. "It was me, sensei."

"And why," interrogated Zoro, "didn't you tell me?"

"Well…" the boy murmured quietly, "I…I tripped."

"Tripped? What, on your own feet?"

"Sort of."

"And does it hurt?"

"Wha…?"

"Your 'sprained tendon', does it hurt?"

"No, not anymore-"

"Good," Zoro cut in, motioning for the students to get up onto their feet, "because you're going to do a hundred push ups for me."

The boy looked crestfallen. "One hundred?"

His sensei nodded. "Hai, one hundred. HAJIME!"

The student fell to his fours and began to push himself up and down. "Don't underestimate me, sensei!" he crowed, "I can do a thousand by the time everyone else finishes warming up!"

Zoro grinned. "Fine then. If you do a thousand, your kendo skills will increase."

Jackson's hand shot up into the air. "SENSEI!" He called. "I can do _more_ then a thousand and you hit like a weak girl!"

"A weak girl!?" snapped the pouting girl from before, "_I_ can do two thousand. That's _way_ more than you."

The entire room erupted into chirps of competitiveness; Zoro watched on in patience. To be honest he shouldn't have ignited their egos, they were going to be hyperactive for hours – and he hated hyperactive kids, especially the crying types. A loud smack reached his ears, along with the scream of a poor girl who had fallen victim to one of the larger boy's attack. Zoro quickly stepped in before she could retaliate. "Brian," he quickly blocked the young boy's shinai with his battered one. "You shouldn't attack girls like that."

"You do!" the tawny kid snapped back.

Zoro hated these arguments. "Yes, that's because I'm allowed to." He felt the brat whack his shinai into his leg, shouting 'Take this puke head!' Zoro blinked at the insult. Puke head? Where in the blazes did that come from?! "Right," he growled, "everyone, you're to shut the hell up and listen to me."

The children immediately shut-up.

"It is shame," he started, "to a samurai who uses his shinai or his katana as an object used for menial hitting," he glared at each of his students. "A samurai uses his sword like he would his arm. Your swords are merely extension of your arms, and like your arms you are responsible for _keeping it to yourselves_. I _never_ want to see _anyone_ hit someone else because of some stupid argument of who can do more. Is that clear?"

"Haaaaai, Zoro-sensei," the ashamed class chanted.

"Good. Now," he continued in a lighter tone, "let's warm up!"

"One thousand!" Zoro looked down at the boy who had the sprained tendon. "I did it, sensei!" the child pronounced proudly, "one thousand! I am so strong!"

"No," corrected the green samurai, "you're stuffed. You can sit out the warm up if you like."

"Oh thank god," the kid slouched tiredly off into a corner.

* * *

**GIRI: Maa, another chapter! Luv all your reviews!**

**For those who don't know, SHINAI are those practice bamboo swords used for Kendo.**


	4. Armed Robber

**Armed Robber**

Nami could feel her eyes itching to close and her head rolling forward on her neck. She was beginning to wonder if staying over at Vivi's for the night would have been a better idea, but no, that Kohza annoyed her to no extent. But still, it would have been a thousand times safer then driving along the highway at 160 kilometres per hour, at night. She then thought of the two days study she hadn't done and nearly veered off the road towards a tree.

Nami steadied the car just as she zoomed through the red lights and found herself down her street. She parked the car outside her house; because it would lessen the risk of having a car crash the sooner she could get out of the accursed machine.

Her day hadn't been a good. That much was obvious.

Her arse-faced boss had farted in her face one too many times. She was going to strangle him one day, really. If only there existed a long enough length of rope to noose him. Then they'd have a trial and naturally find him guilty for making women work for inhumane hours – then they'd hang the idiot.

Nami chuckled at her chain of thought as she slipped the house key into the lock and twiddled it around for a bit – her eyes drifted to the house next door. It was dark. Nami cocked her head to one side trying to make out what in his backyard deserved an eight foot fence – he didn't have a dog, otherwise she would have poisoned it by now.

The click of the lock interrupted her thoughts and she stumbled inside, turning on lights until she got to the kitchen. She grabbed an orange, turned off the lights and with the help of the walls, headed to her room. The sight of her bed lying in a mess of sheets and blankets switched her off then and there; she collapsed onto the mattress and was immediately blessed with sleep.

* * *

Zoro followed the moonlight like a moth; he was dead tired, mentally. He was verging onto the point of starvation and was frustrated with the conversation he had with his so called, 'superior'. Zoro didn't know of anyone who could get on his nerves as much as the Spaniard swordsman did. Honestly, the man hadn't the faintest idea of tradition Japanese kendo and here he was telling him that he was treating the students too harsh!?

"I'm not going to kill them for god's sake," Zoro said to himself bitterly. He paused as he traced the moonlight to his house, sitting hollow-like on his front lawn. He patted down his clothes and sighed – like always, he had forgotten his keys. Zoro rotated his shoulders, looked like he needed to break in for the umpteenth time. He went over to the lowest window and looked up at it, judging its height. Tightening the muscles in his legs he leapt, his fingers catching onto the sill and fumbled for some sort of catch.

A slight gap was enough space to squeeze his fingers in and slowly grind the window upwards.

* * *

Nami frowned slightly in her sleep, her dreams telling her that there was a loud squeaking rat at the window who wanted to talk to her about economic banking and investments. Probably the most intelligent conversation she would ever have with anyone, thus she was contemplating the offer when a particularly loud squeak snapped her eyes open.

She held her breath; did she close the window properly? She couldn't remember. Good god, was there someone trying to climb through? She didn't want to know. Was he a murderer? Too bad, she would always be better. She had after all, mown a man down with a lawn mower.

Nami felt under her pillow and felt the cold steel press firmly into her hands, it was a comfort knowing it was there. A loud thump told her that the intruder had successfully climbed through the window.

Zoro rubbed the back of his neck; he couldn't remember opening such a stubborn window for a long time. He stiffened as a glint of silver caught the moonlight.

A gun!? Holy crap! Zoro thought frantically, reaching for anything in his vicinity to use for a weapon. There's a freaking armed robber in my house! His hands felt nothing except the cool wooden floor boards, he swallowed. The glint of silver flashed again and he threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack.

It wasn't a gun, he realised, it was some sort of iron rod. He wrapped his hands over his head and curled up as the rod struck the place above him, grinding loudly against the wooden walls.

"Ah shit!" Zoro rolled under a small table in a vain attempt to dodge the attacker. Above the table's surface cracked and collapsed inwards. He wiped the splinters from his eyes and looked frantically around the dark room, his hands running through the debris in search for any sort of weapon. He found the table's leg and grasped it tightly. He began to make his move.

"Crap," Nami hissed quietly to herself, straining her eyes in the darkness, her metal staff held firmly in her hands and ready at her side. She had lost sight of the intruder. She began to cautiously cross the room – hopefully she could find the light switch. For a moment something stirred in the darkest corner, her heart thudded loudly as she made her way over to it.

Zoro ran his hands along the wall, "Come on," he groaned to himself, "the light's somewhere." His fingers located the switch; he hurriedly flicked it on and spun around to face his attacker standing behind him.

Nami blinked, momentarily blinded by the sudden light. Her eyes adjusted, they focused.

Zoro dropped the table leg in shock. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY-!"

Nami screamed.

* * *

Mrs. Barker poured the poor girl another cup of camomile tea and patted her hand. "There there, child," she cooed, "it's all right, just a little misunderstanding, that's all."

Nami accepted the warm cup and nodded slightly, feeling drained and confused and angry and…she looked over at the unconscious green man lying on her couch and sipped her camomile tea. A man with no sense of direction, her kind old neighbour had explained. Completely helpless. Living in a lost world.

Yeah sure, Nami had said heatedly to herself, that's what he makes everyone think. At least the camomile was working. Since the arrival of Mrs. Barker it had taken her ten minutes to calm down and stop bashing the man who had entered her house via the window.

The neighbour had explained that he never carried his keys on him. Which was somehow supposed to be more believable than a man with no sense of direction? Doubtful.

But still, this nice neighbour she had was an improvement. Nami wished she had met her before she had with the coniferous man. She watched the man stir, "You right, now?" she called to him.

Zoro stiffened. "Yeah," he sat up groggily, "no thanks to you."

Mrs. Barker rushed over to him and handed him a cup of tea. "There you are, dear."

"Uh…" he took the cup, "thanks, Mrs. Barker." He sipped it. "Umm, what're you doing over here?"

"You climbed in through my bedroom window," Nami snapped from the kitchen before the old neighbour could explain. "Are you queer or what?"

Zoro snorted, "You're queerer."

The orange woman huffed. "I'm going to call the police on you tomorrow, just so you know."

He waved an airy hand. "Yeah, go right ahead," he leaned on his hands and cocked his head to one side. "I don't expect anything less from an orange, raving lunatic of a woman who has a temper crisis and a lack of genuine humanity." _That_ got her out of her seat and brought her stalking over to him. Zoro bit his bottom lip as he looked up. "Yes…?"

Nami curled her hands into fists and fought to keep them at her side. "_Get the hell out of my house_," her voice was barely recognisable.

Zoro snapped to his legs and glared down at her. "_Gladly_."

Mrs. Barker shivered as Zoro stormed out the door, slamming it loudly behind him and continued to make a din until he reached his own home and slammed his own front door closed. Nami peeled her eyes away from where Zoro had been sitting and directed them onto the elderly woman.

"Thanks for your concern, Mrs. Barker," Nami said before steering her out of the house and slamming the aching front door closed once more.

Nami leaned her back against the door and bit at her fingernails in thought. She sighed and shook away the looming thoughts of people at windows. "Men," she cursed, turning on her heel and opening the front door. There was no way she was going to get to sleep in her own room now.

* * *

Vivi rubbed her eyes and looked sleepily over at the person lying peacefully next to her. "'Morning, Kohza," she slurred.

Nami yawned loudly, "'Morning." She watched her friend give a yelp and fall out of bed and peered over. She smiled, "Sorry, I decided to come over after all."

Vivi levered herself back onto the mattress. "Oh…how'd you get in?"

"Kohza opened the door for me," Nami explained. "I suppose that was nice of him."

Vivi gave an 'I told you so' face. "So, ah…where is he now?"

Nami shrugged carelessly. "Don't know, probably sleeping in one of the spare rooms," she massaged her forehead slowly. "You wouldn't believe what happened to me last night."

The morning light was a pure golden and the sky a bright azure blue, indicating another hot day ahead and possibly a power shortage because of all the running air cons. There was a sense of water restriction in the air, but even so, Vivi had her sprinklers on full. The water fed her emerald green garden and magnificent lawn and a light spray would occasionally drift in the direction of the marble patio, designed with a Grecian flare. The curly headed butler laid a jug of fresh goat's milk onto the table and stepped back with a nod.

Vivi smiled, "Thanks Igoram!"

Nami rolled her eyes and poured herself a bowl of cereal.

Kohza chewed thoughtfully on his muesli as his girlfriend's friend retold her night's experience. "I don't know," he said at last, "I suppose you had all rights to attack him when he first came into the room, but when you knew who he was, shouldn't you have stopped?"

Nami frowned at him, "Shut the hell up, you man, this is women's talk!"

The couple blinked. Kohza shrugged and went back to chewing his breakfast, though he was silently steaming.

Vivi sighed loudly. "Nami," she started cautiously, "you know that you can, you know, stay with us. Father's over in England at the moment and it's kind of quiet without him and Pell around."

Silence.

"I mean," continued Vivi, testing the water, "the house has a least eighty rooms…Nami, stop giving Kohza death glares!"

* * *

**Giri: Another chapter! I really appreciate your reviews!!**


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